Angelic Rose
by K-Lie
Summary: Satine has died and has -amazingly- made it to Heaven. But can she stand to watch her beloved below?
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note - First of all, I don't own these characters. Well, I do own Phillip, and any other ones you've never heard of. ( But Baz owns all Moulin Rouge-y-ness, which, unfortunately includes Christian.  
  
And, now, before you get mad, Satine and Phillip are /not/ going to end up together! Nor is Christian going to end up with any other woman. Though the Satine/Phillip relationship will extend some, but don't worry! Christian and Satine belong together and will end up together.  
  
And also, please don't hate me for making this a Christian ( as in the religion) thing. I'm not even Christian myself (I'm of no religion whatsoever), but I just felt like writing this. So no one be offended, please. I don't know what Heaven really looks like, or if there really is one, so please don't get mad at me. Thank you.  
  
Summary : Satine has died and has. amazingly. made it to Heaven. She's forced to watch Christian's grieving from above, as she gets situated into her new angelic life.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Angelic Rose ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Heaven. A place that no one quite knows what it's like there: no one living, of course. However, for those of whom have entered the realm of the dead, they know. Yes, they know. Be they those coming to stay for all eternity, or those who are just passing through, as part of their torment before entering the Underworld. The real Underworld.  
  
For those of whom have passed on, they know that Heaven surpasses all beauty ever seen on Earth. The land is vast, or what could be considered land, of course. In all honesty, it is the clouds that are beneath your feet. Big, white, fluffy clouds, like the ones young children draw in their pictures at kindergarten. There are blue skies and clean air, free of all the smoke and pollution. Heaven could be considered the place of perfection.  
  
However, that is not so. Though there are no physical needs here: food is not necessary, though there is tons of ambrosia for those who live here to eat; water flows endlessly, and no one is injured and sick - not everyone is happy. Having to watch those they love from above, day after day. Watching the grief as their loved ones mourn them, watching them be tormented endlessly. It's not perfection.  
  
One of the newest angels sits upon a large cloud, away from the others. Vibrant red hair cascading down her back and causing great contrast to the silky white dress she wears, sits hunched over the edge of the cloud, staring sadly at the world below. Tears roll down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and falling to Earth.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Christian sat on the stage, sobs still racking his body. The sun had already risen, and yet he hadn't budged from the spot he'd been in for hours. His shirt was smeared with a bit of blood, but he didn't seem to notice. The woman he loved had died. Died.  
  
It seemed like he'd been sitting there for years; like it'd been a lifetime since the last time he'd held his beloved in his arms. In fact, it had only been about four hours. Four hours since Harold had forcefully pulled Satine away from him, insisting that preparations needed to be made. Christian had fought off the Bohemians when they tried to take him home; he couldn't bear to leave the spot where Satine had taken her last breath.  
  
"Satine?" He whispers, his voice cracked and broken. "Oh god, why?!" The tears stream continuously down his face, unable to cope with his loss. He shudders as he finally notices the rain outside. How long had it been raining? He hadn't even noticed.  
  
Toulouse watches from the side of the stage, staring at the broken poet sadly. He had come to try and bring his friend home, but can't seem to find the will to disturb him. Not again. Not after having to disturb his grieving twice before, the first time to get him to let go of Satine which he refused to do on his own; and the second time being when they tried to get him to go home afterwards. Sighing, he turns away, glancing out a window into the night. Rain. It seems so appropriate for it to rain on the day of such tragedy. Perhaps it is true what they say; when it rains, an angel is crying.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A young man by the name of Phillip strolls along down the streets of Heaven, humming quietly to himself. The day was beautiful, just as it was everyday. It was warm and sunny, not like the world below. In parts of it it was raining, others snowing, and some in the middle of terribly sandstorms. How Phillip was glad he didn't live down there.  
  
Phillip stops in the middle of the street, turning as he hears a soft cry. Altering his course towards the noise, he finds himself moving towards an angel of whom seems to be in such agony. He pauses as he sees her face, and finds himself gasping. Never had he seen such beauty in a living. well, once living. creature. Her flawless skin and high cheekbones, added with her full lips and beautiful hair, makes her by far the most stunning being he'd ever witnessed.  
  
He knows that he shouldn't judge: That's certainly not what angels do. However, in this case the beauty is extremely apparent, and it would take a fool to not see how lovely she was.  
  
"Excuse me? Miss? Are you. okay?" Philip frowns, feeling like an idiot. Of course not. She just recently died: and, obviously, there wasn't anyone to greet her upon her arrival.  
  
Satine jumps noticeably, being snapped out of her grief for the moment. "Hm? Oh. yes, I'm fine." She says, her words so softy that Phillip can hardly make out what she said. Edging his way towards her, he glances off the edge to see what she's looking down at. A man. A man obviously in grief, looking as if he'd just had his heart ripped to shreds. Glancing back towards the young woman, he places his hand on her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. "I'm sorry."  
  
Satine doesn't seem to hear him, staring down longingly, trapped in her own grief. Nearly a minute passes before she glances back up at him, as if she only just heard him. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't belong here. I belong in Hell. I belong in Hell for being a lowlife. For selling myself. For hurting the man I love with all my heart. Why?? Why am I here???" She stares at him, demanding an answer to her question.  
  
Phillip stares, feeling nervous under her gaze. "I. I don't know." he stammers.  
  
"I don't belong in Heaven! I'm not pure! You're supposed to be pure to be here! I'm a goddamn whore, for God's sake!"  
  
Phillip swallows hard, her obvious emotional anguish turning into anger. "I. I. Well, I. I wouldn't recommend. uh, saying His name in vain. Not here. Ya know, him being the boss guy and everything. But. I don't know you. I don't even know you're name. But it looks to me that it's pretty obvious why you're here." He glances off the cloud to spot the man again. "You love him. Purely. With all your heart, I can tell. That's why you're here."  
  
Satine wipes her eyes, forcing a small smile. "I do. I do love him. More than anything. But I died. They. He. He decided that I was going to die. God did. He forced this pain upon us both! Oh Christian. Christian." She starts sobbing again, emotional pain etching her features.  
  
"It's okay. It's okay." Phillip sits down next to her, holding her as she cries into his shoulder. He whispers meaningless words of comfort, feeling strange doing this with someone he doesn't even know. But that doesn't really seem to matter right now. "Um. I'm Phillip." He finally says, once the woman in his arms' sobs had turned into quiet whimpering.  
  
"Satine," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, before pulling away. "What will happen? Now that I'm. d-dead."  
  
Phillip forces a light smile. "You'll live out your eternal life. And soon. sooner than you think. you'll be joined by those that you love. Until then. you live your life here. And you watch over those that you love."  
  
Satine feels another wave of sadness wash over her and she finds herself clinging to Phillip once again. "Oh Christian. Christian!!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I know, I know. It wasn't very good. But I was makin' brownies and just thought - hmmm - that'd be interesting. Sorry for any typos. My 'J' key is sticking lately, so sometimes it doesn't work if I don't hit it twice. Anywho, let me know if I should write more or not. I'm not good with chapter stories, but I felt like writing this.. Thankie. 


	2. Rose Petals

Author's Note - I dun' own nuttin. God (A.K.A Baz Luhrmann) owns 'em. :-) This chapter's really short. I know.  
  
  
  
"Uuuugh.."  
  
Christian awoke with a groan, his hand holding his head. He has a terrible headache. For a moment, he doesn't seem to recognize where he is. . . But, after a few moments, the previous night comes flashing back to him.  
  
He remembers going up to Toulouse's room in search of Absinthe. . . He remembers finding his prize, and downing nearly all of it. . . And then Toulouse and the others came back. . .  
  
And that's about all he remembers.  
  
It had been three days since Satine's death, and the young poet couldn't take it. The first night he had been unable to do anything. He had sat on the stage as Satine died, after she had been taken from his arms, and then until he was carried home by the Argentinean and Chocolat, after hours upon hours of crying. Then he had sat in his room and cried some more. That night, he had gone into a state of silence. He wouldn't speak, didn't cry. . . All he did was stare, the pain evident in his eyes, though he didn't cry or seek comfort. The previous night, however, he had cried. Cried and cried, until he just couldn't cry anymore. And when the tears stopped, he had drank. And drank.  
  
And there he is now. Inside the Boho's apartment, lying on the floor, with a terrible headache.  
  
But he didn't care. The pain in his head and stomach were nothing like the pain in his heart. She was gone. His diamond was gone. Forever. Forever. Forever. Never to return. Gone. Dead. Dead. She's dead. Satine's dead.  
  
With these thoughts, his tears return again, as he sits on the floor, the other Bohemian's passed out around him. "Sa-tine!!!" He screams, his silent cries turning into full-blown sobbing. "Sa-tine!!!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Satine awakens slowly, shifting from a rather uncomfortable position on her side. She finds herself laying in the same spot she'd been since she'd arrived: right on the edge of a cloud, of which gives her a perfect view of Christian. She was still wearing the Hindi wedding dress from Spectacular Spectacular, though now it was crumpled and wrinkled, with tear-spots decorating it randomly. The skirt had also served as a tissue, so she certainly looked like a mess.  
  
Despite Phillip's attempts at getting her to go back home with him so she could get some sleep, she had refused, just as she had done each night. She couldn't leave her poet alone. She had also refused everything he offered: she didn't accept it when he offered to go get her some clothes to change into, nor when he went to go get tissues. The refusal of the tissues was just because she was getting used to saying no to him; The refusal on the clothes was for the reason that they were the last thing she'd been wearing when she was with Christian.  
  
Watching him constantly only made her heart ache, but she just couldn't allow herself to do anything else. Blaming his heartache on herself, she feels she deserves to torment herself by watching his agony. If only she had just gone with the plan. . .Sure, he'd believe she didn't love him, but still. . . He wouldn't be hurting as he was now. It is always easier to hate than it is to recover from the loss of someone you love. . . Especially after their duet. They had finally gotten to tell the world of their love; for the first time, they got to be open with their relationship. It's ironic, isn't it? They can be finally be together. . . And then she dies. On the same night.  
  
Staring down at him, she feels the tears returning. She couldn't do this. She couldn't bare it. She shouldn't be here! She should be with him! With Christian!  
  
Watching him sob only makes herself sob. "Oh Christian. . . Christian, I'm here. . . I'm here. . . Please. . . Don't cry anymore. . ." She pleads, her heart being ripped open with every new tear that falls, every breath he struggles to take in. "Please. . . No more tears. . ."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Almost as if he heard her pleas, Christian's sobbing slows, until it finally stops. Using his sleeve to wipe his eyes, he turns his face up towards the skies(or, more correctly, the ceiling), sadly. "Why, Satine? Why did you have to die? Why?" He whispers, shaking his head. "I can't take this. . . I can't handle not seeing you, Satine. No more tears. No more pain," he whispers, struggling to pull himself to his feet. He was still pretty drunk, but he could handle a flight of stairs. . . Well, kinda.  
  
After stumbling and tumbling his way down the stairs, he finally makes it into his room. Immediately, he goes right towards what he's looking for. Reaching behind his typewriter, he slowly pulls something out, concealing it in his hand. Moving over towards the window now, for the first time since Satine had died, he opened the curtains, to reveal the sun. Opening his hand, he exposes a small blade, watching the sun as it reflected off of the metal. "No more tears, no more pain. . ." he repeats, over and over again, as he brings the blade down onto his wrist. 


End file.
